


Tell Me The Same

by DeanOh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2016 Dean/Cas Secret Santa Exchange, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Top!Castiel, bottom!Dean, i just hope my main mvp giftee likes this, i'm not good at tagging anything please don't lynch me, sexy stuff, so much fluff and stuff idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanOh/pseuds/DeanOh
Summary: Castiel Novak has to cover a Santa Claus shift for his brother, Gabriel. Coincidentally, Dean Winchester takes his very rowdy class to see Santa this year. Upon finding out they know each other, Dean scores a date, and Castiel nearly drops Dean's phone when he adds his number. Their journey begins!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CasButt_SassButt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasButt_SassButt/gifts).



> Hi! I've registered for the Secret Santa thing this year, and I'm very happy to present this ball of fluff and sex for the wonderful CassButt_SassButt. I hope you like this as much as I liked writing it! I'm not the greatest writer, but I tried getting into the festive holiday spirit, and wanted to show some love to the world.  
> The title comes from the song by Michl - "Tell Me The Same"
> 
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS

The red coat is too big for his shoulders, and Benny laughs as Castiel drags the ridiculous red hat over his face and groans.

“It's just today,” Benny says apologetically. “You don't have to strain yourself, Gabriel said you'd be a natural with the kids.”

Castiel gathers himself up and pretends he's not fuming inside. The morning call came out of nowhere, right as he was about to take a sip of his coffee. Gabriel got sick and didn't have anyone to cover his shift as a Santa Claus at the local mall, and to Castiel’s dismay, the only other available person was out of time for the holidays. So, Castiel listened to Gabriel whining for ten minutes, endured blackmailing for another two, and somehow got into this mess without opening his mouth to say 'no'.

“I hate this. I hate how I look with this beard. Can I go without?”

Benny laughs. “Well, brother, have you ever seen a Santa without some white curls down his chin?”

Castiel wiggles the cheap attachable beard on top of his upper lip, then nearly sneezes. He looks ridiculous. Benny helps him with the padding, securing it within the suit. Castiel watches him throughout the whole process, suddenly aware of how petty he must look to the Cajun guy. “I'm sorry,” Castiel says, avoiding Benny's eyes. “I shoudn't take this out on you.”

Benny puts a belt around Castiel's now-padded belly and taps it a few times before snorting. “Don't worry, you ain't hurting my feelings. I'm just sorry you had to drop everything to help Gabriel. The fucker doesn't deserve a friend like you.”

“Brother.”

Benny raises an eyebrow. “Whadda ya know? Fucking Gabriel has a brother. Wouldn't have known what with you being so easy on the eyes.”

This time, Castiel smiles, but it's hard to see through the beard. “Half-brother, to be exact. We have a different father.”

Benny hands him some white gloves and squeezes Castiel's shoulder. “Happy to have you here, then. You ready?”

Castiel shakes his head. “No. But let's go.”

* * *

The Christmas Market area in the Mall is booming with business, the smell of cinnamon and pepper-mint hovering in the air, people standing in groups, or families with their children entertaining themselves with various attractions on the playground. Castiel follows Benny, who is dressed in an elf costume and looks even funnier with the long elf shoes that jingle every time he steps forward. His elf ears are a little crooked, but nobody cares because for once, the attention is on Castiel, and he hears children screaming at their parents. _Santa. Is that Santa_?

They approach a ginger-bread decorated hut, and in front of it, there's a giant red cushioned armchair, with “Happy Holidays!” written in cursive on top, shining with LED lights. Castiel supposes it's festive and all, but he dreads the seat even more now that he's in front of it. He looks back at Benny, who has a fake black writing board in his right hand, and a candy cane pen in his other. Benny just nods, and Castiel sits down.

There's other staff too, a girl he hasn't seen before, with blonde hair and a wicked smile. A jittery guy with a glittery beard and a massive elf hat. Wonderful. He's surrounded by Christmas.

There's a line forming already, parents with their kids and strollers, tired and happy faces around him. Castiel fakes a festive mood just as easily as he does at the theater, breathes into his lungs a few times to calm his nerves. It's all an act. All a very difficult, unbelievably unrewarding act. Castiel glances at the ceiling, preparing himself mentally for this job, and sends a quiet 'fuck you' to Gabriel.

The first child plops down on him without warning and says, “I know you're not real.”

Off to a good start, then.

Kid after kid, Castiel asks them questions, listens to their wishes and promises various gifts, some of them ranging from dragon toys, to weirdly impossible ones. When a red-haired girl tells him she'd like a sister, Castiel glances at her two mothers, who look at each other, beaming. He hugs the girl close, and promises her he'd do his best to find the best sister she could ever have.

In an hour, Castiel's both tired, and – surprisingly – giddy with excitement. Being around kids has always helped him calm down. Something about their never-ending happiness makes him feel like he's up there in the clouds with them, achieving his dreams and riding the rainbow. Benny looks approving as Castiel makes children laugh with his dry humor, and as he comforts the crying kids on his lap. He even gets a few hearty _thank you_ 's from parents.

Once the stream of children subsides, Castiel takes a breather and makes some small talk with the other elves. He learns that Jessica, the blonde girl, has been studying Law and only works here because of quick cash. The glitter beard guy introduces himself as Chuck, and tells him he's working on a novel for publishing, so he's working odd jobs for every penny he can get. Castiel tells him he knows some people in the publishing industry, earning a wide smile from the guy. Benny watches them with an amused look on his face, and when Castiel's more or less free, he walks over, tapping his board.

“How are you? Do you need a breather?”

Castiel shakes his head. “It's only been a few hours,” he says. “Our shift is going to end soon anyway, I'm gonna rest when I come back home.”

Benny leans on the armchair, looking over the Market. “A friend o' mine called in, told me he's bringing a class of rascals with him. Field trip, or something.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “How many?”

“Knowing Dean, gotta be at least ten or eleven kids. He's teaching downtown. Some of these kids don't really get to feel the real Christmas spirit.”

“Orphans?”

“Not all of them,” Benny says, clicking his tongue. “Mostly from families who can't afford to take their children to see Santa.”

Castiel's heart clenches. “I see.”

Benny excuses himself for a second and disappears in the hut. Castiel accepts a few more kids before Benny comes back with three big red bags, packed to the brim. He sets it down next to Castiel, pen in-between his teeth.

“Every year Dean and I make sure his class leaves with some gifts, if you don't mind?”

“How many times have you worked as an elf?” Castiel asks, as he checks the bags.

“A few years. I actually own a restaurant, but I take some time off to help around.”

They stop talking as more children show up, and Castiel does his job. Until, of course, he notices a group of children in hand-me-down clothes approaching their stand, led by a tall man dressed in a leather jacket and wearing a red Santa hat, smiling from ear to ear.

Benny greets the guy with a hug, and they tap each other on the back. Castiel watches their encounter, silently wishing it wouldn't be so awkward as he's the only one sitting down. The other elves greet the man too.

Castiel figures it's Dean and his class.

Dean.

Oh my god, Dean.

The guy, the gorgeous green-eyed man from the time Castiel helped Gabriel teach a theater class in Kripke Elementary. Castiel's breath stops short, and the air in his lungs suffocates him for a single second.

He'd be so fucked if Dean saw him without his beard right now.

Dean lines up his class as Benny comes over again. “That's Dean – “

“I know him,” Castiel interrupts him, and his throat goes dry.

“Really?” Benny lights up. “Small town, right?”

“You misunderstood,” Castiel says nervously. “I know him, but he doesn't know me. We've never talked.”

Benny is about to ask him something, when Dean comes around, the smile playing on his ridiculously plump lips. Fuck, he's even better looking than last time Castiel's seen him. And he's only seen him in fleeting moments, in the halls of Kripke, sometimes in the cafeteria, sitting with other teachers.

“Benny told me you're nearly done with your shift,” Dean says, his hands in his pockets. The freckles on his face are evident even in December, and Castiel gets lost in the constellations. “Sorry for barging in last minute.”

“No,” Castiel says, shy as fuck, and heart thumping against his chest. “No, it's fine. I'm here to do my job anyway.”

Dean watches him, their eyes locking. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to say something, but then the children get rowdy and he has to turn his attention to them.

Benny helps Castiel open the gift bags, and finally, the children go up to Santa one by one. They're all very bright, happy to the point of tears in their eyes. Castiel does his best to give them the attention they deserve, digging into the bags and providing gifts to every single kid, giving them hugs and kind words, encouragements and advice. His soul breaks seeing so much potential in these warmhearted children. Dean's the star of the show, though. Children swarm him with their gifts, excitedly talking about what they got, and Dean is more than attentive, pro at giving them real, wonderful smiles. A perfect father figure.

Once they're all done, Benny offers up the playground and his own keen eye. Dean takes a second for himself, watching the kids play with Benny the Elf. Castiel looks at his watch, noticing it's almost his time to go.

Dean turns to him. “I know you from somewhere.”

Castiel snorts. “The outfit is kind of the whole point of being recognized.”

“No no,” Dean says, shaking his head a little. His eyes are searching, the green even more evident in the ever-changing LED lights. “No, I mean, like. Your eyes. Swear to God I've seen you before.”

Castiel's chest expands, fingers tighten on the arm-rest. “I, um. I worked with Gabriel at Kripke Elementary.”

Dean flashes a smile in recognition. “Castiel, yeah? Gabriel's half-brother!”

Castiel's eyes narrow. “How do you know I'm his half-brother?”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest, beaming. “Gabriel and I play poker together, on Poker Thursdays.”

“Ellen's bar?”

“Oh yeah,” he says. “You come there often?”

Castiel shrugs. “I'm not really the going-out type.”

“You should come,” Dean says, licking his lip. Castiel's immediately drawn to the action. “This Thursday. My treat.”

Castiel's whole world stops. He can barely hear the happy shouting from the playground, or the sound of his own voice, when he says, “...a date?”

Dean takes his phone out of his pocket, and hands it to Castiel. “If you want to. If you don't, it's all good, man. We could go as friends, too.”

Castiel stares at the phone, eyes wide and blush creeping up on his cheeks. He's thought about Dean more times than he can admit to himself, and now, his fingers are shaking as he takes the phone and enters his number.

Dean saves it.

Castiel gulps down his nerves and stands up. “I would...like it to be a date. If you don't mind.”

Dean's lop-sided smile grows as he shyly looks down to his feet. “It's a date, then.”

Castiel's stomach flutters when Dean waves him goodbye and picks up the children. Benny helps him go back to the dressing room, and chats away as he's taking the padding off, but Castiel barely listens. His mind reels with the way Dean smelled like up close, and how his green eyes flashed when Castiel gave him the number.

Castiel's hands sweat as he gets into his car and drives back home.

 

* * *

 

Dean Winchester drums his fingers on the steering wheel, humming along with AC/DC. His fingers ache to check his phone, to see the number again, but he gets it together enough to park behind Sam's car next to their apartment building. Dean happily struts down the pavement, and hums to himself all the way to the fourth floor.

Sam opens the door for him before Dean can get his keys. He's dressed up, and his hair is slightly tamer than usual.

Dean makes an _ohhh_ sound.

“Shut up,” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

“I didn't even say anything substantial,” Dean says, and pushes Sam back into the apartment.

Sam watches him as Dean takes off his jacket and tosses the red Santa hat on the counter. “How did it go with Santa today?” Sam asks.

Dean glances at his brother, flashing a smile. “You first, Samsquatch. What's with the get-up?”

Sam freezes for a second, then shifts uncomfortably. “I got a date.”

“A date? Looks like we both scored today, huh.”

“What – “

“With who? Tell me it's Jess.”

Sam purses his lips, and leans against the door. “I'm more interested in _your_ date.”

“It's Jess, isn't it. Dude, I'm impressed.”

“It is Jess,” Sam says, playing coy. “And thank you. Now it's your turn to tell me about this _date_ of yours. Is she hot? He?”

“He,” Dean beams, and goes to the kitchen, Sam following him closely. Dean grabs a can of beer from the fridge and pops it open. “Remember the guy I told you about from school. The theater one, Gabe's assistant.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, and refuses to drink when Dean offers some. “The blue-eyed God?”

“Turns out he's also Gabe's half-brother,” Dean says. “He was covering for Gabe as Santa. We talked, I asked him out, he said yes. We're meeting on Thursday.”

“You play poker on Thursdays,” Sam says, and he seems content.

Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “Not this time, Sammy,” he says, earning a glare from Sam. “This time, I'm wooing the man of my dreams.”

“You barely know him.”

“Picture-perfect God of eternal sex hair, and a knack for drama.”

“You've never talked to him.”

“ _Fuck_ , his eyes look even better up close. I think I might be into this Santa kink too, I mean you should _see_ how he looks in red –“

“Okay, okay, slow down there, Romeo,” Sam says. “I'm happy for you, I really am. After all you went through with Michael...”

Dean makes a _psshh_ sound into his beer. “Michael's done and gone,” he says.

“Are you ready, though?” Sam asks, concerned. “I'm afraid of you pushing yourself like you did with him.”

Dean sips his beer, content. For the first time, he doesn't have any fear lingering in the back of his throat. No shaky hands, no anxiety. Just excitement for a good date and good company. “Go have your date, brother dear. Text me if you need me out of the apartment.”

Sam groans and leaves.

 

* * *

 

Castiel wakes up in the morning, sunlight showering him and his small, yet tidy apartment. He fell asleep with his phone in his arm, waiting for a text, or a call, feeling like a teenager all over again. Checking his messages again, he finds nothing, and with a hint of disappointment, he goes for a shower.

Under the warm spray of water, Castiel thinks about all of the relationships he's ever had, and never in his entire experience has he waited for someone to call. It's a wonderful feeling, anticipating a simple every-day thing, aching for some kind of a rush, be it the shaky feeling of liking someone.

Walking out of the shower, he notices his phone going off and then turning dark again. He hurriedly checks it, and sees an unknown number on the screen. Almost throwing the phone out of his hands, he redials, forgetting about how naked he is.

“Cas?” a husky voice answers, and Castiel's experiences a mild heart-attack.

“Yes. Yes?”

The laugh that comes is wonderful and beautiful and so so so so liberating. “It's Dean. Sorry I didn't call yesterday, had to grade some homework.”

“It's alright,” Castiel reassures him. Unable to stand, Castiel plops down on his un-made bed. “Thank you for calling me.”

“We're still on, yeah?” Dean says. “Thursday.”

“What should I wear?” Castiel asks, like a fucking idiot. He nearly face-palms himself.

Dean hums. “Surprise me. I bet anything would look good on you.”

 _And I bet you'd look great with nothing on_ , Castiel thinks, and mentally kicks himself. “I'm looking forward to seeing you. Haven't been out on a date in a while.”

“Yeah?” Dean sounds surprised. “Should I be worried you have high standards? Am I going to have to compete for your attention?”

Castiel laughs. “Trust me, you have no competition. Even if you did, I'd rather go have a beer with you.”

“I'd better not disappoint, then,” Dean jokes. It's so light-hearted, Castiel melts there and then. “I'd like to come pick you up, if you're okay with it.”

Castiel gives Dean his address and they agree on the hour. Castiel hangs up, heart thundering against his ribs. He wants Dean's voice to wrap around him, warm him, whisper sweet-nothings to him. Castiel dresses, makes himself some coffee and even smiles when Gabriel calls him to say thank you for yesterday.

He helps out at the local theater that night, working on a new set for the latest show, and checks his phone now and again to find Dean texting him. The texts are nothing special, but Castiel writes back just as enthusiastically, explaining what he's doing in detail. Dean's working on his car after he's done with school, sending him pictures of a sleek black car, a classic Chevy Impala. Castiel falls in love with her when he sees how much Dean works for her to look the way she does.

Dean's equally as interested in Castiel's work, and Castiel snaps a few selfies with a starry set, the whole thing looking like a fairy-tale. Dean asks if Castiel's playing anyone this time, but Castiel explains that no, he's not contracted right now. He's eyeing some shows, though, but he's happy working on sets at the moment.

They text way past midnight, and Castiel can't fall asleep without checking his phone every few minutes. He dozes in the early morning, still holding on to his phone, which reads _goodnight :)_

He wakes up before 11 AM, finding a few missed calls from Gabriel, and a good morning text from Dean, who sends him a picture of his class a few seconds after. Castiel smiles at the picture, and goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Gabriel calls again.

“Baby bro!” Gabriel says, and Castiel hears children in the background. “Good-fucking-morning!”

“Aren't you supposed to be working?” Castiel asks, and looks at himself in the mirror. His dark curly hair is just as unruly as always.

“I am working!” Gabriel says giddy. “Just wanted to know when you and Dean-o are turning up for Poker.”

“He told you?” Castiel says.

“Benny did,” Gabriel explains and then coos to someone. There's rustling and laughter, then Gabe gets back to talking. “He said Dean's the type to give his full-attention to his date, so I'm down a poker player. God bless Benny, the kind man has agreed to take Dean's seat of honor while you eye-fuck over beer.”

Castiel sighs. “Please don't swear next to children.”

“I'm astonished you scored a date with the Winchester,” Gabriel says. “Let me repeat again. _The_ Winchester. The unattainable. Man of the hour.”

“Gabriel, please let me have my date in peace.”

Gabriel laughs with a kid on his lap. “Aight. Use protection. See you tomorrow.”

Castiel's smile still doesn't leave him throughout the day. He texts Dean, and Dean texts back. Casual flirting.

 

* * *

Dean checks his phone, and gets out of his car when seven hits. The apartment building he's parked in front of is nice, the neighborhood is even calmer. Dean's dressed in his favorite plaid shirt, and the jeans that hug his ass pretty nice. Sam bid him farewell after nagging him about the date, and looked worried enough to text Dean _good luck_.

Dean waits a while, and then, Castiel walks out, wearing a blue sweater that makes his biceps pop, and black slacks that make Dean's mouth water. He's casual, and Dean's casual, and it's all too new and exciting.

The truth is that Dean has had an eye out for Castiel since the first time he saw him. Back when Castiel helped Gabriel teach theater class in Kripke, Dean snuck a few glances at how Castiel looked every morning, and how he interacted with everyone around him. His calm, yet reassuring demeanor grew on Dean every time he saw him eating lunch, or talking with kids. Had it not been for Michael, who Dean dated at the time, Dean would have asked Castiel out.

He's worrying, now.

Castiel comes over, firstly looking at Dean, then at his car. He whistles, appreciating the perfect way Dean's baby shines in the setting light. “She's beautiful.”

Dean bites his lip. “If you want to take her out instead of me, I wouldn't blame you.”

Castiel smiles at him, one of those small, insightful flashes Dean adores. He looks otherwordly, and Dean memorizes his features. It's strange seeing him out of the Santa costume, but then again, Dean's unable to look away from the way Castiel's hair falls on his face, his eyes even more blue now that Dean's allowed to ogle. “Maybe some other time,” Cas says, ducking his eyes down. Dean misses them instantly. “You look great.”

Dean walks around the car, and opens the door for him. “You look even better.”

Castiel's shoulder brushes Dean's as he sits down inside of the car. Dean takes a deep breath, and goes to take his own seat, nerves buzzing.

He pulls out of the parking lot, and Castiel asks about his music taste. They talk about their favorite Led Zeppelin album, and Dean pops the cassette in, earning a wide smile from Castiel. It's as easy as breathing, talking to him. They seem to fit in together, the topics flowing, opinions clashing but entertaining, Castiel's laugh ringing in Dean's ear when he makes a joke about being the driver and always picking the music, ignoring the bitching from the shotgun. Castiel likes Dean's music though, and even sings along. Dean finds out Castiel is kind of good at singing. Castiel finds out Dean's good with a guitar.

They reach the Roadhouse in no time, and Dean's partly disappointed the trip ended this fast. They walk hand in hand, talking animatedly and Dean holds up the door for Cas.

Cas goes past him, and Dean catches a whiff of mint and freshly opened books.

The bar is crowded, but Dean called Ellen beforehand to reserve a private enough booth in the far end. They pass Gabriel and Benny on the way.

“Deano!” Gabriel says, and Castiel says hi to Benny. “If you hurt my brother, I'm going to strangle you.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Have fun, Gabriel.”

Dean winks at Benny, and leads Castiel to the table.

Jo, Ellen's daughter, comes and takes their order, sharing a laugh with Castiel, who seems a natural with any living soul on this planet. Dean's kind of jealous of everyone in the room, anyone Castiel looks at, and he's jealous of the beer in front of Castiel.

“So,” Castiel says after a sip of his beer. “I think it's safe to say my brother is delusional, and sitting next to you clouds my judgment.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean says. It's warm where their knees are touching. Dean moves in his seat, and now they're even closer. “Your judgment of what?”

“Of people I should, or shouldn't date,” Castiel says, amused. “No one's sane enough to befriend my brother.”

“Your brother is a riot,” Dean says, playing with the tissues on the table. He's painfully aware of how they fit together, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. “He's also very fond of you. I think I know more about you than I asked for.”

Castiel muses, moving a little, and Dean's body lights up on fire, every part touching Castiel heats up. He's fidgeting, he knows this, but can't seem to do anything about this sudden flare of _yes yes yes please touch me more_. “What's my favorite color?”

“Green,” Dean answers.

Castiel hums in approval. “Why do I hate bees?”

“Trick question,” Dean says. “I know for a fact you've had bee hives.”

Snorting into his beer, Castiel glances at Dean. “My brother has a big mouth.”

At the word _mouth_ , Dean's eyes hover over Castiel's lips. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

Castiel's just as affected. He's just as enamored, just as fidgety, and his eyes follow Dean's movements. The air around them is electric, softly red with how it feels, kind, strong, nervous. Dean's realization just makes him want to taste Castiel more.

Dean coughs, and drinks his beer.

Their food arrives, and they talk more, laugh, enjoy each other without anyone else bothering them. All the time Dean fights the urge to kiss Castiel, and Castiel fights the urge to manipulate Dean into doing it.

They're both fucked, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

 

* * *

Dean brings Castiel back home a little past 10, and kills the engine. Castiel's watching him from the passenger seat, illuminated by the lights, his blue eyes filled with something very familiar. Dean looks at the mirror for one second, and thinks it's exactly how his eyes look too.

“I had a great time,” Castiel says, suddenly shy.

Dean's got his hands on the wheel, palms sweaty. He clears his throat. “Me too. More than great, actually.”

Castiel stares down at his hands, cheeks colored in pink. “Would I be pushing too hard if I asked for a second date?”

Dean's eyes snap to Castiel, and this time, Castiel looks back.

He answers nothing. Suddenly, they're just a breath away, and Dean's taking his sweet time taking all of this in. Castiel's upper lip barely touches his, hovering as if asking for permission. Dean breathes in, breathes out, feels Castiel's exhale on his skin, and then his eyes flutter shut.

The kiss is vulnerable at first, then searching, then warm and easy.

Castiel kisses like he's wanted it for a while, hands coming up to grip Dean's neck and the back of his head. Once Dean opens his mouth, Castiel tentatively sneaks his tongue in.

Dean's tasting heaven.

Castiel pulls away, a single inch, and watches Dean like a hawk. “Would you like to come in?”

Dean finds himself nodding. Then he finds himself clutching Castiel's fingers in between his. Then, he's climbing up the stairs, following Castiel, who looks frantic, ecstatic, out of breath. Finally, Dean's back is hitting Castiel's bed, and he can't remember anything about the way over here when Castiel's mouth is on his throat and sucking deeply.

Dean arches into Castiel, breath hitching when Castiel drags Dean's layers of clothes off, almost predatory in his haste. It's dark in his room, but Dean can make out Castiel's mouth, and his hands, his beautiful thighs, the way he leans back in a quiet moan when Dean gets up and mouths at Castiel's stomach.

Taking his sweet time, Dean wiggles out of his jeans, and starts undressing Castiel, who's on top of him and his thighs are hugging Dean's waist. Castiel's already hard, and Dean gets Castiel out of his slacks, leaving Castiel half-naked and shivering.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous,” Dean murmurs, and runs his hands up Castiel's waist.

Castiel gives a huffed out laugh. “I've wanted you since the second I saw you.”

Dean's eyebrow pops up. “You've been watching me, huh?”

Instead of answering, Castiel pushes Dean down, lips traveling down to Dean's underwear. Dean's afraid of closing his eyes, watching every little move Castiel makes, drinking this all in. He _does_ look like a God.

Dean's naked in an instant, and Castiel's mouth is on him. Unable to stay silent, Dean lets out a low moan, eyebrows furrowing together and hands quickly moving to grab onto Castiel's hair. Castiel's mouth feels like absolute bliss, his tongue working in slow strokes, and his hand joining in with the fun.

“Fuck _me_ ,” Dean lets out, and Castiel looks up for a second. Moving his hand on Dean's dick, Castiel smiles at him.

“As you wish,” he says.

Dean nearly fucking dies.

 

* * *

 

Castiel's never done this. Never even thought about fucking a guy he went on one (1) date with. But it's Dean, and he's wonderful, and Castiel loves how heavy Dean feels on his tongue.

Dean's a quivering mess as Castiel takes him in, blessed with a weak gag-reflex. Dean's back arches, hands tightening in Castiel's hair. He looks like art, and Castiel's the painter.

All too sudden, Dean urges him to come back, to kiss him like there's nothing waiting for them tomorrow. The kiss now is widely different from the one they shared in the car. There's nothing tentative, or experimental, just pure animalistic _want_. Castiel kisses Dean, and Dean kisses back, just as hard, just as eager.

Dean takes them both in hand, so it's Castiel’s turn to moan into Dean's mouth. He's hard as a rock, leaking over Dean's hand, so he moves in tandem with Dean's hand, relishing in the sweet friction of Dean's cock.

“Jesus,” Dean breathes. “You're so good to me. Fuck, I'm gonna blow if we don't move this along.”

Castiel kisses the side of Dean's jaw, and reaches for his bedside table, where he's got a stash of his own. He hands Dean the lube, and a condom.

Dean moves as if he wants a better angle for himself, and Castiel stops him, taking his hand, and snatching the lube.

Dean's eyes flash, sinister. “Want to prep me?”

“What? No, I want _you_ to prep _me_.”

Dean pouts. “And here I was thinking you'd fuck me tonight. A guy can dream.”

Castiel stops for a second, breathing heavily. Before, he'd always bottom. Before Dean, he'd never complain, he'd enjoy what was given to him and would give all the love he could give. “I haven't –“

Eyes widening, Dean looks out of breath himself. “You mean. You've never topped?”

Castiel shakes his head.

Dean kisses Castiel, and pushes the lube into Castiel's hand. “I'm yours tonight. Please.”

Castiel laughs, squeezing some onto his fingers and reaching down. “Only tonight? So there's no chance for a second date?”

Dean's mouth opens as Castiel opens him up, taking his sweet time. “ _Fuck_ , you feel good.”

Castiel sucks onto Dean's skin above his collarbone, leaving a blossoming mark.

Dean moves against Castiel's fingers, biting his lip. “It's gonna be your turn to pick a location, though,” Dean manages to put out. “For our second date.”

Castiel's mouth closes on Dean's cock again, and Dean temporarily loses his mind.

Then, when Castiel lines up, Dean drags him down for more kisses. “Third one's on me.”

Once Castiel's inside of Dean, he shakes and Dean kisses every piece of skin he can reach. They move together, breathing each other in, Castiel's eyes locked with his. He looks ethereal, like an angel but without the wings, and in a brief second of insanity, Dean thinks he can see the shadows of big feathers on the wall behind Castiel.

It takes Dean over the edge, faster than he would've hoped, and Castiel follows soon after.

* * *

Castiel wakes up to the smell of bacon and freshly brewed coffee.

Conscious of how he looks naked, he quickly takes a shower and dresses in sweatpants. After checking the phone and texting Gabriel, Castiel moves to the kitchen and finds Dean starkly naked, dancing to himself as he's cooking the eggs.

Castiel's overcome with emotion, seeing such a domestic view in front of him, so he moves without fear and kisses the back of Dean's neck, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Dean huffs a laugh. “Good morning, sunshine,” he says, and turns around to give a long kiss. Castiel can taste toothpaste and coffee at the same time. “I found a spare brush.”

“Mm,” Castiel hums, and kisses Dean again.

They spend what seems like hours kissing, and only when the smell of burning breaks them away, Castiel moves to help Dean recover what's left of the eggs. Dean looks even better in the sunlit kitchen, completely unashamed of being naked around Castiel. Castiel wants to taste Dean again, but when they're done with eating, Dean goes down on him then and there.

Castiel fucks him against the fridge.

They end up in bed again, wrapped up around each other.

“Don't you have work today?” Castiel asks, drawing circles with his thumb on Dean's skin.

“Nah, called in sick,” Dean answers, kissing the top of Castiel's head. “Saw you lying there, and couldn't get myself to go.”

The air isn't as thick with heat anymore, more-so lightly buzzing with new-found energy. It's weirdly...calm with them both in bed. Familiar. Safe.

“I'm thinking about where to take you for our second date,” Castiel says.

“Is it a surprise, or...”

“No,” Castiel says. “I could get tickets for the play at the theater. The fairy-tale one.”

Dean rolls over, and faces Castiel. He's relaxed, amused. “I'd love to. When?”

“I'll have to check the dates and tell you later. Can't be fucked to check now.”

Dean laughs loudly. “You swore!”

“I sometimes do more than swearing,” Castiel says, pouting.

Dean shuts him up with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

They settle for a second date a few months later, but meet up almost every day. They avoid calling them dates, only because Dean's adamant about calling the theater one their second one, and Castiel agrees, just as long as Dean doesn't stop kissing him or holding his hand.

The sex is amazing. Their life together is amazing.

Dean makes him home-made food one day, and Castiel spends time with Sam, who promptly says he's happy Dean found someone as nice as Castiel.

One night, Dean tells him about Michael, and how he endured their relationship solely because he thought he couldn't love another person like he did Michael. Castiel confided in him, talked about his own misses, old mistakes and distinguished flames for people he hasn't seen in years.

Dean's attentive. He calls Cas, then picks him up from the theater, and smothers him with small gifts. Castiel comes over a few times to Dean's class, teaching them about the ins and outs of theater, and helps Dean take care of the children once they're ready to go home.

Dean moves in right before their second date

Sam's standing in the foyer on the date of the play, dressed in a black suit, with Jess beside him. She's as radiant as ever, and quickly takes notice of Dean and Cas, who come inside of the theater holding hands.

“Thought you'd never show up,” Sam says, and Dean shares a mischievous look with Cas, who looks more disheveled than usual.

Dean kisses him, and urges them inside of the theater. And if he doesn't remember most of the play, it's his own fucking fault for looking at Castiel the whole time.

 

 


End file.
